Like this:

Today, while I was making my way to the south end of the pool with a rather unorthodox kick but an entirely on-the-money pull, a man entered the pool area from the locker room wearing very long blue — for lack of a better term — swimming shorts. He was walking with what looked like the gait of a person with cerebal palsy — a little wobbly and constricted, like it must hurt to move.

It took me as much time to swim two lengths of breaststroke as it took him to walk the length of the pool. As I was approaching the north end of the pool, he was making a move to sit on the bleachers. I turned my head to the side and told him he could share my lane; the lanes are, after all, big enough for two. He gave me a glorious smile and said, “Thanks, but I’m waiting for Christy to help me.”

I really liked his smile, and after thinking of my friend Todd, whose cerebal palsy is much more severe, I thought of how nice it is to be the recipient of such a lovely gift.